It's All The Things You Can't Explain
by Anniely
Summary: 'Sometimes being the boss sucks.' Hotch realized that sometimes being the boss has its less attractive sides. But sometimes the sun shines brightest after a storm. EmilyHotch
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This haunted me for quite some time. And when a story needs to be written I just can't get to sleep until it is written. Every kind of review, praise and/or criticism is very much appreciated, because this is not betaed. _

_Disclaimer: Don't own a thing. I just like to push their lives into a different direction._

.

**It's All The Things You Can't Explain**

.

_I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt to lose something you never really had.  
__(The Wonder Years)_

.

'Agent Prentiss, a word,' Hotch said, standing at the top of the few stairs, just in front of his office. He turned around without bothering to wait for a reply.

Emily's hands stayed on the keyboard for a few seconds, after Hotch's figure had disappeared behind the blinds of his office. Then she got up, sent Reid and Morgan, who looked at her questioningly, a noncommittal smile and shrug. Her walk was as confident as always, but inside Emily was preparing herself for an awkward kind of talk. She briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath before entering her boss' office.

Hotch was seated at his desk, a few files open in front of him, and didn't look up as he heard her enter.

'Please, close the door,' he said rather shortly without looking up.

Emily lifted an eyebrow, which of course he didn't see, and mused about what that she had done Hotch could possibly be peeved about. She closed the door quietly. At first Hotch ignored her, as she walked over to him and came to stand in front of his desk. He kept filling out forms and when Emily started to wonder if he would fire her, he finally looked up. Emily couldn't quite pinpoint all the emotions she saw in his eyes, but there was definitely anger.

'Prentiss,' he started and Emily gulped. That was never a good start; she had learned that in High School. Every time her teacher had called on her with _Miss Prentiss_, Emily knew she was in trouble - again. 'Were you thinking at all, today, before your little _venture_?'

His face was hard as a mask.

'Sir?' Emily asked and frowned.

Hotch stood up angrily. 'When you went in there, without waiting for backup, without knowing exactly what you were getting yourself into - did you think at all?' Hotch all but shouted.

Emily's eyebrows went up even further.

'Hotch, I- ,' she started, but the other agent interrupted her.

'I'm not done yet. If we hadn't reached the Sheriff in time, they would have stormed in there and they might have killed you!'

Hotch had advanced towards Emily during his heated little speech and was no standing before her, with only a few feet separating them. His eyes were blazing, but they were met with just as furious a glance.

'I'm sorry, _sir_,' Emily gave back through gritted teeth, trying to keep her sudden anger at the man in front of her at bay. 'Under the circumstances I deemed it to be the right thing to do and I stand behind that decision.'

Emily saw that Hotch was about to protest, so she rushed on.

'I didn't put anyone else in danger and I daresay that I wasn't in that much danger, either. It was a controlled risk I took.'

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at her boss defiantly. Hotch's anger seemed to be leaking out of him. He let out a sigh and his posture became somewhat lax.

'Prentiss,' he started and combed through his short, dark hair with his right hand. Emily would have groaned if Hotch hadn't been her boss. She had thought he would just drop it, but obviously he wasn't letting her off that easily. 'It's not about you putting someone else in danger; you were reckless and you disobeyed a direct order and you risked _your_ life. Which is just as bad as if you had risked anyone else's. We need to be able to rely on each other and that leaves no room for ego-trips. Are we clear?'

Emily gulped. It felt like being fifteen all over again. Her teacher had called on her and she hadn't known the answer, so she had been told off in front of the whole class. The whole laughing and giggling class that was having a good time at the new girl's expenses. Over twenty years later Emily still felt like she had back then.

She nodded curtly. 'Yes, sir. It won't happen again.'

'I know that,' Hotch gave back. The look in his eyes was somewhere between understanding, pity and disappointment. Right then, Emily didn't know which one of these hit her hardest.

A few seconds later Hotch dismissed her and Emily trotted back to her desk, keeping her head down and not answering to the questioning looks her teammates shot her.

.

One hour and piles of reports and files, Emily finally shut down her computer and left the BAU. All she wanted now was a hot shower, some comfortable clothes, some comfort food and a movie with a lots of action and a modicum of diegesis.

As Emily opened the door to her condo, she was greeted with silence. It had been a long time since she had come home to someone; since it had been something else than emptiness and loneliness and the half-eaten pizza in the fridge that greeted her when she got home.

On days like this, when nothing seemed to work out quite the way Emily had wanted it to, she considered it to be very unfair that she didn't get to do a boringly average nine-to-five job, meet an average guy and lead a normal life with him. This notion almost made her laugh. Emily knew that she was stuck with the job she had and that, no matter how bad the things were she sometimes saw, or how utterly annoying it sometimes was to get up in the wee hours of day to catch yet another serial killer, she could never leave the BAU. She had tried once, but that obviously hadn't worked.

Emily pulled off her socks and threw them into one corner of her bathroom. Her jacket and pants and underwear followed. The hot water felt wonderful on her skin and she pushed all thoughts about work into a small chest that she put into the smallest corner of her mind. After rinsing off her strawberry shower gel, Emily stepped out of the shower and grabbed a white flannel towel. Hair dripping onto her carped, she padded into her bedroom.

Half a cold pizza later, Emily sat on her couch, wearing the oldest pair of cut-off sweatpants she had found and a worn-out, grey Yale T-shirt. She had her favorite quilt wrapped around her. A blue and light white thing that she had nicked from her mother years ago. On the TV an old James Bond movie was playing; an old and original one when James Bond had been all about the gimmicks and the girls. And when the bad guys had some fluffy pet on their lap. Emily leaned forward a little, as Bond, portrayed by the one and only Sean Connery, fended off Oddjob, while he simultaneously tried to free himself from his shackles and to stop the nuclear bomb in time. The door bell rang just the minute Bond and Oddjob were engaged in their deadly duel. Emily cursed under her breath and leaned a little further forward to get the remote control. She almost fell off the couch, but when she finally got her hands on it, she pressed the Pause button. In the meantime, her unexpected visitor had rung the bell a second time.

'I'm coming!' she shouted and scrambled off the couch. The blanket wrapped around her ankle and Emily hit her foot on the coffee table.

'Shit,' she cursed, hopping over to the door.

She didn't use the peephole, just threw open the door.

.

The last person on earth Emily had expected to visit her at such a late, was Hotch. In her opinion her mother, who was currently working God knows where, would have been much likelier to be standing on her doorstep than the man who actually did.

'Hotch,' Emily said. She took in his appearance and frowned, before she could even think the clothes she was wearing. Hotch was soaking wet.

'You're soaked,' she stated the obvious and immediately stepped back. 'Come in.'

Hotch looked a little embarrassed, as he walked past Emily into her apartment, but he obviously didn't care about her clothes at all. After two steps down the hallway, he stopped, however.

'I'm sorry,' he said. His voice was dry and hoarse. 'I'm ruining your carpet.'

Emily's gaze followed his down to the floor and the grey carpet that it was covered with. A small puddle was starting to form around Hotch's feet.

'That's not a problem.' She shrugged nonchalantly. 'I never liked the grey anyways. But I think you need a shower and some dry clothes,' Emily then pointed out, gesturing towards his rather ruined suit.

'The bathroom is up the stairs, the second door on the left,' she said, before Hotch had the chance of even opening his mouth. 'I'll get you some fresh clothes.'

At first Hotch didn't move. Uncertainty was written all over his otherwise emotionless face.

'Hotch,' Emily went on, 'If you don't get out of that suit, you'll get a cold. And I know that you will still go to work even though you're sick. And I also know that you're grouchy when you are sick and I won't take the blame for that. So just take a shower, while I make some coffee.'

Finally Hotch nodded. Then he untied his shoes and left them standing in the hallway next to a pair of high-heels Emily barely every wore. He walked up the staircase, dripping water all over the place. Emily heard him murmur 'Thank you', before he disappeared from her sight. She smiled and walked over to her kitchen to start her coffee machine.

.

Barely ten minutes later, Emily heard Hotch come down the stairs and looked up from the crossword puzzle she had tried to pass the time with. But these kinds of puzzles had never been her forte, for even though she had been traveling a lot before settling down in Washington D.C, her geographical skills usually didn't suffice. How could anybody other than Reid know one of the Dordogne's tributaries?

Hotch was clad in the clothes Emily had placed in front of the bathroom door for him. She had found another old, black T-shirt big enough for him and an even older, black pair of sweatpants. Seeing Hotch in such an attire made Emily feel very self-conscious. Never before had she seen him wearing anything but suit and tie. Her eyes traveled down his muscular form to his bare feet.

'Thank you for the clothes,' Hotch said quietly and Emily's head shot up. Their eyes met and she felt as if she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Emily smiled at her boss sheepishly and then stood up.

'No problem,' she gave back and walked into the kitchen.

'Coffee is ready,' she called out from the kitchen. A minute later she reappeared, carrying two mugs filled with the hot, dark brown liquid.

'You need milk or sugar?' Emily asked, knowing the answer already.

'No, thanks,' Hotch replied and took the cup she handed him with a grateful nod.

When she sat down on the couch, Hotch followed suit. But he took the opposite sofa. Just now Emily realized that he had been even more formal than usually. She wrapped her hands around her warm cup and briefly contemplated her current situation. She was sitting in her living room in her most worn-out clothes and she was drinking coffee with her boss who was wearing another set of her bad-day clothes. Emily didn't yet know if she should find this situation amusing or scary. But she couldn't decide for either one. Hotch had put his untouched cup onto the table and was looking at his hands.

'Hotch,' Emily finally spoke up, as the silence became a little too hard to bear, 'Why did you come here?'

'I think I need to apologize,' he finally answered and shrugged without looking at her. 'I was too harsh today and- '

'No, Hotch,' Emily interrupted him. She was looking at him, even though he wasn't meeting her gaze. 'You don't have to apologize. You were right and I wasn't. I broke protocol and it could have ended differently. You did your job telling me off and I guess I got off lightly. If it had been anyone but you, I guess I could have gotten a formal warning and not just a rebuke.'

Hotch did look up then. And as his eyes met Emily's, a soft smile actually grazed his lips.

'Thank you.'

Feeling very self-conscious with his dark eyes on her, Emily just threw up her hands in a helpless gesture.

'I guess being the boss sometimes sucks,' she deadpanned.

His response was a low chuckle that had Emily holding her breath for a moment. She stared at her boss with an amazed look on her face and watched the tension leave his body and his eyes.

'You're right. But I can't imagine not being the boss anymore,' he said. It was the most honest and open he had ever been in her presence. Emily felt very proud that moment that he trusted her like that. Meanwhile, Hotch had taken the mug again and was slowly sipping the merely lukewarm brew.

'That's good.'

'Thank you,' Emily gave back and grinned. 'I am not a great cook, but I can make a decent coffee.'

'I should get going. I kept you up long enough and I know you have to come in tomorrow, too,' Hotch suddenly announced and stood up.

Emily hurriedly stood up, too. At first she wanted to argue, tell Hotch that he didn't have to leave yet, that there was still coffee left and that she was enjoying his company immensely. But then she wondered if that wouldn't be likely to make a wrong impression on Hotch. So instead of disagreeing she just nodded. After Hotch had fetched his still wet clothes from the bathroom, he and Emily went to the door in silence. There Hotch slipped on his shoes.

'I think you might need a new pair,' Emily said, as Hotch looked as his marred leather shoes. The rain hadn't been kind to them.

'I do have another pair.'

.

Hotch had his shoes on and his clothes in hand and was looking at Emily. She was looking right back. It's incredible how many thoughts can swirl through your mind in just two seconds, but that was exactly what was going on in Emily's head. One possibility was chasing the next; she was musing what would be the right thing to say. That thing that would show Hotch just how much she appreciated his gesture without revealing too much, without making the wrong impression.

'I -' They both started at the same time and then looked at each other sheepishly.

Neither one wanted to be the first to break the silence, for it wasn't the uncomfortable kind of silence.

'Thank you for the coffee,' Hotch eventually said and turned to leave.

He had already opened the door and stepped into the hallway, when Emily finally moved.

'Hotch!', she called and he turned around with raised eyebrows.

'Yes?'

'Thank you. For coming, I mean. It means a lot.' She felt herself blush.

Hotch looked at her. His dark eyes unreadable and Emily wondered what he was thinking about. Then he just nodded, as if he had won an argument with himself.

'I see you tomorrow.'

And with that he turned around and left, leaving a somehow flustered Emily standing in her doorway, staring after him until he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

Before the metal doors closed, he smiled at her once more. Emily closed the door and went back to her movie and suddenly all thoughts of normalcy faded away. She wouldn't trade her life for anything.

.

_A/N2: There will be an alternate, a little more 'romantic' ending, if you are interested. And I hope they - especially Hotch - aren't too OOC._


	2. Alternate Ending

.

_'Hotch!' she called and he turned around with raised eyebrows._

_'Yes?'_

_'Thank you. For coming, I mean. It means a lot.' She felt herself blush._

_Hotch looked at her. His dark eyes unreadable and Emily wondered what he was thinking about. _

They stayed were they stood, looking at each other, neither one moving so much as an inch.

And suddenly Emily just _knew_ what to do. She stepped forward and kissed him. Softly and gently. It was a spur of the moment decision, one of those that you sometimes think about, but never actually put into action, because you just can't pluck up the courage. But Emily couldn't bring herself to feel embarrassed, because it just felt right and good. She knew it was her boss, she knew that nothing could ever come out of it. And yet she reveled in the feeling of his body against hers. As his hand pressed against the small of her back, the damp clothes in his other hand starting to soak through her T-shirt, Emily couldn't suppress a soft moan. Too soon for her liking Hotch pulled away.

'I see you tomorrow,' he said and his breath whispered over her skin.

Emily nodded, but searched his face for some trace of rejection. She found none. Slowly Hotch entangled himself from her. He gently tugged a strand of hair behind Emily's ear.

'Good night.'

Emily watched him walk away without saying another word or moving. Before the metal doors of the elevator closed behind Hotch, she waved and received a small smile from him. She closed the door behind herself, suddenly looking very much forward to tomorrow. She went back to her movie and all thoughts of normalcy that had occupied her mind earlier faded away. She wouldn't trade her life for anything.

.

_True love stories never have endings.  
__(Richard Bach)_

.

_A/N2: This would be the alternate ending. Tell me what you think; I hope it isn't too fluffy._


End file.
